


Change of Pace

by HM (HyperMint)



Category: Peacemakers (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Series, Strongly implied?, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 16:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13275333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperMint/pseuds/HM
Summary: Sometimes, having a change of pace only makes it that much sweeter.





	Change of Pace

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Peacemakers and associated sundry is not mine.
> 
> AN: Um, so.
> 
> Hi.
> 
> I am completely not exactly much of a slash writer, but this pretty much wrote itself and the fandom needs more stories in it, anyway, so I hope it's not too horrible. I think this is more high 'M' than anything else. Let me know if there is a tag you think needs to be up there. I'll take a look at it.
> 
> If someone comes across as a, well, 'tart', it is not something I actually intended. 
> 
> It might be out of character, but there isn't much of a lot to go on in Canon. 
> 
> Happy New Year!

* * *

 

Jared Stone was unlike any other lover he’d ever had.

And that was saying quite a bit, as far as Larimer Finch was concerned.

He’d travelled – perhaps not all, but most of – the world and thought he knew everything there was to know about pleasuring a lover.

So, when he’d arrived in Silver City, had decided to stay, had stayed a full year before the Marshal’s increasingly odd behavior around him started making sense, he had believed that he could be a fascinating lover for whatever amount of time that Jared needed him for.

Imagine his surprise, then, to find the tables so completely _reversed_.

Where Larimer had believed that one night was going to suffice, he found himself craving the older man even more fiercely.

He was used to harsh, teeth-filled clashes of mouths in the heat of the moment, but Jared didn’t seem to have any sense of time in the world as he slid his mouth over Larimer’s in a slow glide that had him craving even more.

He was used to painfully tight grips on his body as he thrust into them, but Jared’s grip wasn’t tight enough and, yet, it was as he found a sobbing release that lasted for _hours_.

He was even more used to the burn and stretch of stolen moments as a body rocked into his, used to the sharp, quick pleasure that burned through him – even as he felt the encounters for days after.

But, with Jared – who was actually a bit bigger than a majority of the men he’d had in the past -, the burn and stretch was nowhere near as debilitating, the stolen moments lasting into hours, the rocking body inside of him hitting that spot just right as pleasure built and built and _built_ and sent him into the stars almost entirely without warning.

Then, the all-encompassing sleep he was always tipped into – safe in the knowledge that his lover could be trusted to keep watch – and waking up with the barest of pains to remember the past night.

No amount of desire or lust seemed to force him to any lengths that Larimer had long grown accustomed to.

It was such an odd thing, the… almost controlled (?) touches drawing more out of him than he’d ever believed it could.

Months of this passed and Larimer found himself addicted as hopelessly as any drug, as any lure of gold, as any rush of a puzzle solved.

Jared never brushed him off entirely, simply asked if he could wait a bit longer, and he was most certainly not yet that far gone that he lost his own professionalism in any capacity, but Larimer had to learn to accept the wait, too, unlike his past lovers.

It made every encounter with Jared that much more addictive.

That wasn’t to say, of course, that they always ended up strictly in bed, because Larimer honestly doubted he would be able to stand the softness of a mattress for very long after what other places he took a liking to, and Jared seemed more amused than anything else to his wordless demands, but Larimer would come away with even more fondness for his favorite places. He even began suspecting Jared himself starting to have a fondness for their atypical locations and thrilled even more so when Jared didn’t even have to ask where he wanted their next tryst to be.

With Jared, everything seemed that much more fascinating for Larimer as his pleasures found new heights and Larimer craved it like nothing else.

Eventually, he found that he didn’t desire anything else and it was a surprise to find how content he was at that.

He couldn’t force Jared to go outside his established parameters and Larimer found that he didn’t want to, that there was nothing wrong with their long drawn out sessions and not ‘tight enough’ grips and kisses that seemed to go on much longer.

He even began expecting it.

So, it was with complete surprise that Jared came up to him one late June evening during their first year of this… arrangement and asked if it was alright that their next encounter be postponed until the second week of July.

After a week already of little intimate contact, he was conflicted between feeling disappointed and feeling anticipation of the pure release he could be expected to have when their contact finally resumed.

Still, Jared had a reason for postponing and Larimer agreed.

Probably for the best, since Larimer himself got roped into the Independence Day preparations with Katie Owen.

On the day before the nationwide celebrations, however, he noticed young Chipper and two other go-to Deputies keeping watch over the town in Jared’s stead and commented to Katie how busy the Marshal must be with town duties elsewhere.

“What do you mean?” she frowned over at him.

“Well, he isn’t here, is he? Clearly, he had business elsewhere to tend to if no one’s seen him in the last week.”

And Larimer had indeed looked, constantly on the lookout for the man if only to bolster his desire and build it a little more with every look, every smile, every seemingly casual touch.

He looked up at Katie’s silence and his heart dropped at the look on her face.

“Finch…” she seemed to struggle for words. “Do you know what today is?”

“Yes…” he slowly answered. “July Third. Tomorrow is the Fourth. Why?”

She stared at him wordlessly before looking away.

“Katie… tell me. Please?” he didn’t like the moisture that made her eyes a little brighter.

“You weren’t here last year,” she bit her lip. “So you wouldn’t know. We never expect the Marshal back until at least the seventh.”

He stared at her. “Why?”

He finally managed to track Jared down about two hours later, the older man – the former Union soldier – looking up at him with shadowed blue eyes haunted by memories that refused to stay buried and left in the East as soon as June ended.

Without a word, without explanation, his heart breaking, Larimer reached out and dragged him into a harsh, fierce kiss reminiscent of what he thought he’d never have again.

This time, their encounter wouldn’t be soft, wouldn’t be slow, wouldn’t be _controlled_ because Larimer was pulling out every trick he’d ever learned. He was going to _force_ the encounter to be everything he used to seek, because Jared needed it.

Jared needed a distraction that only Larimer knew how to give and Larimer wasn’t going to give him anything else.

For the first time since he started having Jared’s complete attention, long slow glides became harsh and fierce and unrelenting. Not tight enough grips dragged long awaited releases with harsh strips and twists and Jared’s grip mirrored Larimer’s and both kept dragging the other as close to the stars as he could get before both reached them at once.

The stretch Larimer felt as Jared slid into him, setting a pace that kept slamming into that spot, the burn of not enough preparation - completely unlike what Jared had taught him to adore – and the roughness of what Jared had managed to drive from his thoughts felt so familiar and _good_ and Larimer refused to let him stop.

He was sure the older man was going to feel guilty once sense returned to him, but Larimer was going to disabuse him of that once sense managed to return to him as well.

The harsh, fierce, rough, uncontrolled encounter lasting well into the next evening was everything Larimer had wanted – had _needed_ – since he’d realized that he wasn’t going to take another lover after Jared.

Make no mistake, everything else was just as addictive, but this was just… better and nothing like anything else that had ever been done to him before.

Because it was Jared.

Jared with his soft glides, careful grips, steady rocking and steady countenance was so completely lost to his own desires and Larimer hadn’t realized just how much he needed it. How much _either_ of them had needed it.

There was nothing else he would trade the world for and no one else he would rather have.

Something about that should have been some sort of jolting epiphany, but somehow it wasn’t.

It wasn’t and Larimer thought he knew why as Jared bit his shoulder and filled him with uncharacteristic intensity, setting him off once again.

Eventually, their intensity waned and soft glides of lips against each other brought his mind back to reality.

“I’m sorry, Finch,” Jared’s gentled touch slid down his side as they watched each other.

“For what?” an adoring, dreamy smile touched his lips as he accepted another kiss.

“Gettin’ rough with you.”

“Nonsense, don’t be absurd. I’m not sorry,” he snuggled closer. “If nothing else, it’ll give me something to look forward to for next summer.”

“You mean, you want this again?” his tone was incredulous.

“Yes,” he answered simply. “I’d be rather disappointed if this was a one-off, but I think I can wait until next summer. Please, don’t change our usual encounters on my account,” he added, suddenly not able to stomach the thought. “I don’t want you to change them. They are a change of pace that I’ve grown fond of.”

“But you want this kind of thing again?” Jared frowned, blue eyes studying him.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” Larimer met his gaze with a nod. “I confess, I’ve honestly wondered sometimes how it would feel if you were to strip yourself of control with me.”

“And how’d you find it?” he seemed curious.

He thought for a moment.

He was pretty sure that he was going to be feeling this for at least a week. It was going to be rather difficult and uncomfortable, but he didn’t forget how he worked around it in the past.

He remembered how Jared usually looked during their encounters, with softly intense blue eyes watching his every move, every reaction, with gentle fingers inciting more fire and how he looked after this one with dark eyes and rough hands.

Larimer found both versions of equal desirability – even though the latter gave him a sense of pride and excitement at having made his lover drop all sense of control – and smiled warmly.

“I’ve no objection to a change of pace every so often, if you agree.”

“No,” Jared watched him thoughtfully. “Don’t think you would.”

It didn’t change their encounters after that, though Larimer noted the marked hesitation and overt gentleness his lover gave him for the next few times.

Their balance, nonetheless, resumed and Larimer went back to craving the slow, soft glide of mouths and careful grips and slow rocking that filled him with a pleasure he’d gotten used to needing with every fiber of his being.

Jared resumed his controlled touches, but - every once in a while – Larimer would glance up at him to see that thoughtful look even when they weren’t together.

Sometimes, when the occasion called for it, he would find Jared’s touches become a little more controlled right before he would bite his way into Larimer’s mouth. Before giving him that slightly harsh twist of his wrist. Before fingers would slide inside with a little less preparation than usual, making Larimer arch up at the burn and almost release right there.

Those times, that somehow unsurprising epiphany would peek out and Larimer would feel a slow warmth that he couldn’t help suspecting that Jared also felt, both sharing smiles that only they seemed to understand with looks that told the other things they didn’t have words for.

When the snow began to fall and thoughts inevitably turned to summer, Larimer looked over at Jared and hummed.

“Marshal,” he softly spoke, a hand reaching out to touch his arm. “I wonder if it would be too forward of me to suggest a summer holiday for… perhaps a week in early July.”

“Sure?” Jared swept an assessing gaze over him.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he let a small smile quirk his lips. “Besides, sometimes losing control isn’t quite a travesty and I do suspect that I will need that loss of control by the time July arrives. Would you be amenable to joining me?”

Jared watched him silently for a long minute before looking slightly down in that endearingly bashful way he sometimes had. “Not sure I’d have much of a choice, if it’s gonna be anything like the last time.”

“Would that bother you?”

Jared seemed to think about that before glancing at him, a shy smile quirking his lips. “Well, a friend told me once that a change of pace ain’t such a bad thing to have once or twice.”

“I think I would like to meet this friend,” Larimer felt his smile grow. “He seems most certainly like someone you hold in high regard if you’re taking his advice.”

“I always have,” Jared tilted his head, something glittering in his eyes.

Larimer felt that unsurprising epiphany as he stretched over to claim his mouth and couldn’t help wondering just how far he could push his lover’s control in the days leading up to their upcoming holiday.

He hadn’t quite yet broached the subject of sucking him off, but perhaps he would hold off on that as a last resort – or a reward.

On the one hand, he hadn’t yet had a chance to have the ‘softer treatment’ on that and he couldn’t wait.

On the other hand, though, he also didn’t want to give Jared a sense of control for _everything_.

Where would be the fun in that?

* **

END


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